Sarah nodded with a calm smile, lips closed, forehead soft. Her teeth were gritted together.
"But I was told..." He looked angry, "That you would do anything I wanted."
Just take a drink. Rocket fuel, paint thinner, narcotics, anything to take me from here.
This issue arose frequently. Running the business solely through word of mouth was a tricky endeavour but a necessary evil. It meant that the majority of her clients would frequently be sitting in front of her with little comprehension of her services. Even after their appointment, it was clear that many still weren't entirely sure what had just happened. It didn't really matter much to Sarah, if they were dissatisfied the likelihood was that they wouldn't bother her again. Some simply returned for the company. She took their money and was happy for the free drinks.
"And what was it that you expected?" Sarah asked attempting a flirtatious flutter of her eyelids.
"Well I didn't expect this." He huffed. Clearly she wasn't what he was looking for. She couldn't be to everyone's taste.
Sarah didn't feel obligated to convince anyone of anything. There was nothing explicit involved in arranging these meetings. She preferred the mystery and obfuscation. If this particular person had been led to believe something untrue, well, that was just the nature of her business.
In fairness Sarah felt her vetting process needed some work. A potential client would be responsible for obtaining her mobile phone number. They would call her phone four times on an unblocked burner phone. Only one call a day. Sarah would return the call after the fourth call three days later. Sarah's telephone number changed every 6 weeks and she would give this to any client's she met with 'in case of an emergency'.
Sarah would ask her client's not to discuss her business with friends or colleagues. She would emphasise the exclusivity of her service and intimated that she had a busy schedule and didn't need any new clients. The majority of her clients passed her number around and it was extremely rare that her phone log and diary weren't filled with potential business clamouring for her to call them back.
She had a diary to keep track of the numbers and would agree a time and place and advised that the client destroyed their burner phone at that time. A lot of numbers tried once or twice and then gave up. A lot of numbers when she returned the call (blocking her own number) didn't answer and they would have to start the process again. A surprising amount of them continued to call her until she got through to them. The phone tag process was satisfactory for the time being.
"Tell me what it is you want." Sarah said. "I'm sure I can be of some assistance."
"All you're doing is talking." The man said with an every deepening frown. "I have to say, I'm unimpressed with this."
Sarah sat up straight and threw her shoulders back.
Confidence, deep breath, you are in control.
"You'd be surprised what a conversation can achieve." Sarah said with a smile.
"Listen lady, I was looking for some action." He said, "You don't look like you can take care of yourself, let alone what I need."
"I might not be able to give you what you need." Sarah said, her head tilted, "But if I can not satisfy your needs then I can certainly arrange something more specific." Her voice had lowered to a purr.
The man ended the meeting with a follow-up meeting and less of an attitude. It took some convincing but he seemed satisfied after all.
Sarah's mother had said she was a precocious child who could get people to do what she wanted just by smiling. Sarah thought it was just her mother feeling guilty for relenting at her every whim. As her life had progressed Sarah had felt doors closed to her, the pang of rejection and opportunities missed. She didn't feel it was fair to share her disappointment with her mother. Her mother worked as a cleaning lady while Sarah grew up. The hours were mostly unsociable and she would work far too many hours. Sarah was alone a lot of the time in their shoe-box apartment with second-hand books and battered magazines which had been salvaged from waiting rooms to keep her company. Her mother would buy books from charity shops. This evolved from bringing dog-eared picture books home into unused textbooks and atlases as the years wore on.
Sarah's mother had said she was a precocious child who could get people to do what she wanted just by smiling. Sarah thought it was just her mother feeling guilty for relenting at her every whim. As her life had progressed Sarah had felt doors closed to her, the pang of rejection and opportunities missed. She didn't feel it was fair to share her disappointment with her mother. Her mother worked as a cleaning lady while Sarah grew up. The hours were mostly unsociable and she would work far too many hours. Sarah was alone a lot of the time in their shoe-box apartment with second-hand books and battered magazines which had been salvaged from waiting rooms to keep her company. Her mother would buy books from charity shops. This evolved from bringing dog-eared picture books home into unused textbooks and atlases as the years wore on.
Sarah studied hard because her mother instilled in her that knowing things would mean that she'd eventually 'grow up to be a beautiful clever girl' and 'the world would fall in love with her'. Knowledge was a way of climbing out of poverty. Sarah didn't understand this as a child but had the strongest compulsion to make her mother happy. Over the years Sarah's mother would frequently find her daughter asleep on the sofa with a book on her lap.
"Rough night?"
Donovan looked over the back of the sofa as she entered her apartment and threw her keys on the kitchen counter.
"Men." Sarah grumbled as she threw her handbag on the counter and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
"Come on. Tell me all about it." He patted the cushions next to him as Sarah's shoulder sagged and her head hung low.
Donovan wanted to know what it was that Sarah spoke to those men about. He had handed her telephone number to many people he had known in passing with the promise of their wildest dreams being granted. She should be paying him a commission, he single-handedly sent a lot of business her way. Donovan had frequently considered what kind of commission would be available to him.
"Please don't ask me." Sarah said, her voice cracked. She poured a glass of water from the tap and drank the contents with several gulps, her back to her house-guest.
"Its not like I'm asking for names or anything." Donovan said his dejection was on full display and Sarah was not biting.
"How's the list?" She asked him.
The Ghost had confused both of them. Sarah couldn't mask her surprise and confusion. Donovan had seemed uncertain about extricating himself from Sarah's couch again once he realised the list was an unknown quantity. He saw it for what it was, a distraction.
"Why?" He said, "Have you not heard anything still?"
Of course she had heard plenty of things, most of them curse words. The subject would be changed or Sarah would be subjected to sullen silences. She felt trapped between two unbearably stubborn people both whom she couldn't escape.
"She's out of town." Sarah lied.
"International business?" Donovan asked with a glimmer of excitement in his voice.
"Yeah okay..." Sarah shrugged. "What's next on the list?"
"The valet." Donovan had his nose turned up. Not very glamorous or particularly enthralling it would seem, especially after the disappointment of the ghost. "Just come and sit down."
"The valet." Donovan had his nose turned up. Not very glamorous or particularly enthralling it would seem, especially after the disappointment of the ghost. "Just come and sit down."
Sarah shook her head. "I definitely remember her mentioning a valet." Sarah said her voice a fraction lower which could be shrugged away due to fatigue and a tilt of her head. She felt dirty using her tried and tested technique of obtaining acquiescence on someone who wasn't paying her.
Silk sheets and light blocking curtains are seven feet away.
"He's just going to be some loser." Donovan snorted. He was aware that he was potentially just one in a line of discarded lovers. It had crossed his mind that the woman he was looking for could have moved on and found someone else but without confirmation or closure he would continue in his quest.
"Why don't you come with me?" Donovan suggested, he patted the cushions next to him again just in case she hadn't been paying attention the previous four times he had tried it. Sarah would help him, this much he could be sure of. Underneath her prickly demeanour and frequent vicious outbursts, he could see a beautiful soul as gorgeous as her outward appearance. In a world of artifice it was reassuring to know that someone like her could exist.
"I'm tired Donovan." Sarah said. She wasn't looking him in the eye as she moved across the apartment toward her bedroom. He wasn't getting off her couch any time soon and she hadn't enough time during his previous excursion to change the locks. He was too heavy to carry out of the apartment and throw down the garbage chute. She should do weight training at the gym but she was intimidated by the mirrors in the area. She was aware that others would find their eyes drawn to her but she despised her own reflection.
Sarah stood by her bedroom door. Donovan had turned away and had resumed flicking through the television channels with casual indifference. She could see the pitch black sky through her wall length windows and orange mosaic of street lights stretching out below. Was she doing what was best or what was easiest?
